


Breathe in, breathe out

by nerd_herd808



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode Tag, M/M, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:53:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23531137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerd_herd808/pseuds/nerd_herd808
Summary: He was still in his tac vest, which suddenly felt three sizes too small. Can’t breathe. Steve ripped at the constraints, some back corner of his brain registering that his hands were trembling too much to move efficiently. He managed to tear the velcro open and ripped the vest off of his chest, dropping it unceremoniously on the floor.Danny stirred slightly on the bed at the noise, working his jaw slightly as his eyes cracked open. “Steve?”Steve makes it back to the hospital to see Danny.
Relationships: Steve McGarrett/Danny "Danno" Williams
Comments: 14
Kudos: 254





	Breathe in, breathe out

**Author's Note:**

> Just watching Steve locking it down and forcing himself to keep breathing the whole way through the episode about broke me, and made me think that it had to come to a head at some point.

By the time the docks were covered with squad cars and uniforms, Steve’s skin was crawling with the need to get back to the hospital to check on Danny. He paused briefly to catch Tani’s eye and motion that he was leaving, ignoring the compassionate look in her eyes as she flashed back a thumbs up.

Steve swung into the Silverado, turned over the engine and threw it into gear before checking his rear-view mirror to pull out. For a moment, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the bloodstains still drying into the upholstery of the back seat, where he had held his dying partner and prayed for the first time in 10 years. 

Steve stopped, aware that his breath was starting to make a whistling sound through his constricted throat. Eyes closed, he put his forehead down on the steering wheel for just a second. He forced his constricted lungs into the combat breathing pattern drilled into him since day one in the Navy. _In. Hold. Out. Hold._ Once the panicky feeling in his chest settled down to a dull buzz again, he scrubbed a hand over his face and backed up the truck. 

***

Steve gently turned the handle to the recovery room door and stepped inside, gaze immediately locking on his dozing partner. Danny looked much the same as when Steve had left earlier that day. The nurse had given him a brief rundown in the hallway, but all Steve had heard was “stable” and “resting.” 

He sank down into the chair that was still pulled up next to the bed, feeling his exhausted—and probably dehydrated—leg muscles quiver in protest. He reached out and squeezed Danny’s forearm gently, taking some comfort from the warmth and steady heartbeat he could feel. Letting out a breath, Steve realized that his hands were still covered in dirt and blood. _Danny’s blood._ A grimace twisted his mouth and made his stomach roll as he let go of his partner’s arm and shot to his feet, grateful beyond belief that the blood was dry and didn’t smear on Danny’s skin. 

Taking three quick paces to the small sink in the corner of the room, Steve covered his hands with soap and methodically started scrubbing. Watching the pink suds swirl around and around the drain, he could feel his breath starting to hitch again and clamped his jaw down tight. _In. Hold. Out. Hold._ His hands were starting to feel raw, so he turned off the water and dried them briefly before glancing up at the mirror above the sink. 

God _damn. Pull yourself together, McGarrett._

He was still in his tac vest, which suddenly felt three sizes too small. _Can’t breathe._ Steve ripped at the constraints, some back corner of his brain registering that his hands were trembling too much to move efficiently. He managed to tear the velcro open and ripped the vest off of his chest, dropping it unceremoniously on the floor. 

Danny stirred slightly on the bed at the noise, working his jaw slightly as his eyes cracked open. “Steve?”

Steve’s ears were roaring, like he was leaning out of a helicopter thousands of feet in the air. Removing the vest hadn’t helped—now he could see the patches of rust-colored blood dried into the blue fabric of his shirt. Too much blood. He started fumbling with the buttons, needing it off, off, _off._

“Steve, hey, hey. Babe, relax.” He could hear Danny’s voice, raspy and weak but concerned. 

A few buttons clattered and rolled on the floor. This used to be his favorite shirt. Steve managed to rip it from his shoulders and drop it, chest heaving, now cold in only the sweat-soaked black t-shirt he wore underneath. 

_In. Hold. Out. Hold._ For the first time in Steve’s memory, the breathing exercise wasn’t helping slow his breathing or his heart rate, panic clutching at his heart and lungs like claws. His vision started to tunnel, and he clutched desperately at the cold porcelain of the sink to keep from going down.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Steven! No you don’t, SuperSEAL.” 

Steve locked his knees and managed to focus his eyes on his partner, who was halfway attempting to sit up, eyes wide and thumb on his call button. A nurse popped her head in the door, took one quick look at Steve’s face, and then had a gentle hand on his back, leading him back to his chair and making soothing noises at him. Steve wobbled more than walked, then sank down onto the cushion, heart hammering in his throat.

“Danny… what. What’s—” he gasped, trying to force words out between shallow breaths. Danny somehow got a hand on the back of his neck and shoved, none too gently, until Steve’s head was between his knees. He heard Danny murmuring something to the nurse, who quietly set a cup of apple juice on the table next to Steve and then left the room.

“Panic attack, Steve.”

Steve’s ears were still roaring. “I don’t…”

“Yeah, well, today you do. Shh, I got you,” Danny murmured, hand still resting on the back of his neck.

Steve just let his head hang and concentrated on deepening his shallow breaths as much as possible until the knot in his chest finally started to loosen and his heart rate started to slow. _In. Hold. Out. Hold._ He could tell Danny was still somewhat doped up based on the nonsensical comforting noises coming from next to him on the bed, which made his lip twitch with the barest hint of a smile. 

He finally unfolded his torso, feeling creaky muscles and shaky as a new-born kitten. Too exhausted to be embarrassed, Steve met his partner’s somewhat glazed but concerned eyes. 

“Hey, pal. You with me again?” 

Steve nodded, cleared his throat. “Yeah. Sorry. I’ve never…”

Danny shrugged his good shoulder slightly, as if to say _so what?_ “Uh huh. I have. Hold my hand again, I liked it.” He fumbled around on top of the blankets until Steve huffed and gripped his fingers again. “Damn, your hands are cold. Drink that juice, your blood sugar probably tanked.”

Steve sipped slowly at the juice, one-handed, knowing that Danny was probably right. Danny watched him quietly. “Bad day, huh?” he eventually asked.

A laugh punched out of Steve, short and a little hysterical, the dampness that's been threatening in his eyes all day misting up his vision. “Hell.” He tried on a smile, glad that it didn’t wobble. “You’re not supposed to be worrying about me today. That’s my job.”

Danny just looked at him steadily, eyes warm and sympathetic. His thumb brushed the back of Steve’s knuckles. “I’m here.”

“I know.” Steve couldn’t help but be glad that most of Danny’s defenses were still down, allowing him to offer comfort and affection so freely. 

A moment passed, before Danny asked, “Is it over?”

Steve tightened his grip on Danny’s hand, knowing what his partner was asking. “It’s over.”

Danny nodded once, then let his eyes drift shut again. “Love you.”

Steve smiled, fondness and relief beginning to wash adrenaline from his veins. He settled more firmly in the chair. “I love you, too.”


End file.
